


A Dance of Six Parts || or || 5 times Captain America went to the local coffee shop and 1 time he didn't

by cheddarcheese



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barista Bucky Barnes, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, But only a little, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Steve Rogers, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, actually just one (1) panic attack, or really as "Slow Burn" as you can get in 16K words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheddarcheese/pseuds/cheddarcheese
Summary: Bucky hates his job, especially when the hours stretch out late into the day. But, at least he gets free coffee to fuel his caffeine addiction and has one regular customer. Scratch that, two regular customers, now that Steve Rogers (aka Captain motherfucking America) has decided to make Bucky's poor shop his go-to place for coffee. And that means Bucky is going to have to find a way to serve coffee to his childhood, adolescent, and adult celebrity crush without fucking everything up. Shouldn't be too difficult, right?Steve Rogers, on the other hand, finally became brave enough to venture across the street from Avenger's Tower to the small cafe he's been eyeing. Yes, he knows he's supposed to be this pillar of courage and confidence, but that's when he's fighting aliens, not when he sees the hot barista making his coffee. But, despite being frightened out of his mind (even more than when he was scrolling through the depths of the internet), Steve has never been known to back down from a fight.A story of two foolish men falling in love, and trying to hide it (and failing miserably).Or, as I like to call it, a dance of love.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 100
Kudos: 186





	1. Ballet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first story I'm posting here, so I'm a little nervous but more excited. I don't know. Anyways, I've been daydreaming about this Stucky Story in my head for like a month, so I wanted to finally get around to write it. So I did, and now it's all written and edited (edited well? that's up for you to decide).
> 
> There are 6 chapters I've written, all coming up to around 16K-ish words total. It's Sunday for me right now, so I'll be posting a chapter every day, which means that the last chapter will be out on Friday, March 5 (give and take how timezones work because I don't understand them). If you are reading this on March 5 or later (of 2021) you can just ignore what I just said.
> 
> Anyways, before I start talking for too long, I just wanted to say I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> Steve and Bucky, take it away!

“Oh, fuck you!” Bucky yells at his left hand as he reaches down to pick up the keys he dropped. It’s early enough in the morning that nobody would hear him cuss out his metal arm for not being able to grip keys properly, but it’s never a guarantee. The glove doesn’t help the grip, but he’s not about to walk out in public with a fucking metal hand. On the other hand (pun intended), he’s gotten himself into enough _situations_ before, where people around him thought he was trying to pick a fight when he was actually just telling his arm to go to hell. So, instead, he had to show them the arm, and their looks of anger turned to pity which just made him angrier. Fuck the metal arm.

At this early in the morning, Bucky is usually just getting back to his apartment. So what he likes to party? It’s not a crime to get blacked out as many times as possible during his college experience. It literally _is_ the college experience. But, this time, Bucky instead had to wake his ass up at the crack of dawn to get to his early shift at the coffee. Broke college students, believe it or not, are broke, which means that can’t buy their own alcohol for then they want to get hammered by themselves instead of at a party. So, Bucky decided to get a job. To no longer be a broke college student.

Unfortunately, for the next three weeks, Bucky has a full day shift for both days on the weekend. From the crack of motherfucking dawn to the close of motherfucking dawn. The owner, who usually works on the weekend with Bucky, is on vacation for the next three weeks and since the owner has only hired like three employees for the shop because the owner only employs veterans with some sort of medical issue and there seems to be a lack of veterans with some sort of medical issue who want a job at a random coffee shop in New York that gets way to fucking busy and only pays barely above minimum wage, Bucky has to take over for the next weeks. Which means no more blacking out from Friday night to Monday morning.

Bucky could cry.

Instead of crying, he unlocks the door and turns on the lights to the coffee shop. Okay, so, yeah, it’s a pretty nice coffee shop. Everything looks so expensive, and it probably is. The shop can rack in a lot, like a _lot_ , of money because New Yorkers love to ease their guilty conscience by spending absurd amounts of money on coffee because it supports a little, tiny veteran who lost their little, tiny arm. So, yeah, it’s a pretty good job because people never get angry at Bucky for making a cappuccino wrong, unlike those poor bastards or rather baristas at Starbucks.

Bucky weasels his way behind the front counter and goes to the backroom, checking his phone. It’s just about 4:30. 4:30. Bucky could vomit. He _could_. Instead, he yanks his apron off the wall and puts it over his head. He quickly ties it around his waist before plucking the hair tie off from his wrist and using it to put his slightly long hair into a bun that sits pretty on the back of his head. He quickly washes his hands before walking back to the counter.

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. His brain is only speaking the language of coffee right now despite being fluent in multiple languages and majoring in two of them right now. He pulls himself one or two or three or four or five or six… six shots, then mixes it with an ungodly amount of sugar before guzzling it down. After the coffee and sugar can settle in his stomach. Well, not settle. Something like that could never truly _settle_. Regardless, Bucky sets up the coffee shop for the day. It mostly consists of taking nozzles off of things and moving some supplies from the back of the shop to the front. He finishes it all in like thirteen minutes, which gives him enough time to take a coffee-induced shit before the store opens at five. Five a-fucking-m. Bucky might actually cry this time because of the combination of the time and the fact the six shots of espresso and sugar are trying to break Usain Bolt’s speed record in trying to get out of his body. He should know better by now, but he’ll never listen. Never listen to his stomach begging for mercy and begging to receive a liquid that isn’t vodka or coffee or a weird combination of both. Annoying, needy whore.

By the time he finishes his unholy action, the shop is about to open, which means Bucky has to prepare himself to smile at the customers and not tell each of them to go fuck themselves. Part of the reason the shop is so popular is that it’s smack across from Avenger’s Tower, which means all the tourists who want to get a glimpse into the life of a superhero stop by this coffee shop to get their caffeine fixes. Stupid, cute toddlers wearing Thor or Captain America or Ironman shirts and their parents who look like they haven’t slept for 18 years. Makes sense that they need coffee.

Bucky walks over to the front door and flips the sign from open to closed, and before he can even get back behind the counter, the first customer comes in. It’s a short, old lady. A regular, who, for some reason, chooses to get up this early to get an overpriced tea from the coffee shop that’s underneath her apartment building. People are weird, but at least she’s nice and looks at Bucky with kind eyes and reminds Bucky of how his mom would have been if she had the chance to become older. And that’s why Bucky already has her tea prepared for her, which he made when he was making his Frankenstein’s monster drink for himself. Susan (Bucky had learned her name after the first few times she came in when Bucky was working a morning shift) walks slowly over to the counter and places the money already gripped in her hand onto the counter. Bucky then hands her the tea with a smile that matches her, and she walks off to sit in the spot she always sits at. The one at the very left corner that overlooks the street. Susan is always the first customer of the day and is usually the only customer until businessmen who feel like overpriced coffee absolves them of their Wall Street sins come in at around six. So, Bucky walks to the back room and pulls out his book. He walks back out the front, places his book on the counter, and flips to the doggie-eared page.

Okay, so, he would never admit this to anyone.

But.

He’s a sucker for cheesy romance novels. He’s a romantic, okay? He wishes he could have lived in ancient England… well, not ancient… but like the time where there were a bunch of Kings and Queens and shit (Bucky isn’t a history major, okay) and be a prince locked up in a castle and be rescued by a different prince or maybe a knight in shining armor or a prince charming or something like that. Some hot dude that lifts him off his feet and saves him from doom.

But Bucky would never admit that.

He’s able to get a sentence or two into his book before another customer comes in, which Bucky knows without looking up because of the soft bell that rings every time the door opens. He lifts his eyes, frustrated, because customers other than Susan shouldn’t come in any sooner than six o’clock, but instantly, he forgets everything because the man standing in front of him is no other than the man plastered on the t-shirts of toddlers that waddle into the coffee shop grabbing their parents with their grubby fingers. Captain motherfucking America.

\---

Steve Rogers doesn’t usually venture outside of Avengers tower by himself. The crowds of people get too much for him and despite how much he loves toddlers, he’s still not used to them wearing shirts with his face on them. When he does actually leave the tower for non-Avenger reasons, he’s almost always with Sam or Nat. But Sam’s with family, and Nat’s “with family,” and Steve can’t take any more of Stark strolling onto his floor without knocking and bothering him with irrelevant things. And the coffee machines in the tower are way too complicated (despite liking a lot of the changes made in modern America, he still doesn’t get why coffee had to change). He figured the coffee shop across the street would be a safe way to experience the outside world, but also being close enough to the inside world that he can drop anything and get back into his bedroom in less than a minute. Steve made JARVIS do an extensive report on the coffee shop (after he found out that HYDRA still exists, Steve can never be too sure about where the goddamn Nazis are residing) and it turned out that the coffee shop supported veterans. So, Steve should fit right in, right? Well, judging by how modern and expensive all the furniture is, he was wrong. He’s about to turn around and walk right back to the tower, even knowing that Stark will torture him for only being out of the tower for less than five minutes when the barista looks up to meet his eyes. He’s the only one behind the counter, with his hair that looks extremely soft tied up in a bun (a fashion style that Steve _loves_ about modern America) and captivating eyes and jawline that could even cut a super-soldier.

Get your head out of the gutter, Rogers.

But at least this gives Steve enough motivation to stay for the time being. There’s only one other person in the shop, an old lady who hasn’t even turned to look at him, so, yeah, Steve can do this. Just get a cup of coffee and experience the world. He forgets that he’s literally just standing in the doorway of the coffee shop when the barista speaks up.

“Can I help you, sir?” the barista asks with a typical customer service voice. Steve walks up to the counter slowly, trying not to show the panic that’s bubbling up inside of him. He reaches the counter without passing out, which is a plus.

“Um, yes, thank you. A coffee would be great,” Steve responds.

Bucky stifles a laugh. Captain America walks into a fucking coffee shop and orders a coffee. Every barista’s most annoying order, but coming from the star-spangled man with a plan, Bucky finds it quite endearing. Bucky could vomit but at his own self this time around.

“Just a coffee?” Bucky asks to which Steve nods. “Do you want a light roast? Dark roast?” Bucky says as a follow-up, hoping to get a little bit more info out from the man out of time. He reaches down to grab a coffee cup from below the counter.

“Just a coffee would be great,” Steve repeats, hesitantly. Is he fucking this up already?

“I guess I’ll surprise you,” Bucky jokes, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. All he gets is Steve looking down at his feet. Bucky internally shakes his head. “Can I get a name?”

“Oh!” Steve looks back up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Steve.”

“Coming right up, Steve. It’ll be four dollars and ninety-five cents” Bucky says, punching the order into the POS system.

“Prices really have gone up since the 30s, huh?” Steve asks, which was supposed to only be in his head but turns out to be out loud. “Sorry,” he mutters out afterward, pulling out his wallet from his pocket and plucking out a five-dollar bill.

Bucky smiles before speaking, “I bet they have. You can have a seat anywhere.”

Steve smiles, then nods, turning on his heels to take a seat to the left of the coffee counter. He places the book he brought with him on the table, but he can’t seem to open it and start reading. His mind is miles away. Well, that’s a lie, actually. His mind is a few feet away, still focused on the barista that’s making his drink.

Before his daydream can get _too_ out of hand, the barista calls out his name (which Steve thinks is a little redundant but maybe it’s store policy. Steve wouldn’t know), which leads to Steve walking over to the counter to pick up the coffee. If he touches the barista’s hand on purpose when he grabs the cup, Steve will forever swear it was an accident. He walks back to his seat and stares at the cup with his name written on it in thick marker as he sees the barista flee to the back room from the corner of his eye.

\---

Bucky is barely able to get into the backroom before collapsing onto the ground. There is so much to unpack. So, so, so, so, so much to unpack. Did his childhood and teenager and still crush really just walk into the coffee shop he works at? Did he just order a coffee like a blundering, _hot_ , idiot? Is he even hotter in person? Yes, yes, yes. Bucky could scream. He actually gets surprisingly close, but then he hears the soft bell ring meaning another customer walked in. He briefly looks up at the clock and notices it's 6. The morning rush, fuck. But more importantly, how long was he back here, freaking out? Long enough for Steve to leave and probably never returns. Bucky could kick himself for not spending time looking at the man of his eternal dreams, and, instead, spending time hyperventilating in the backroom. In fact, Bucky does kick himself before he takes the order of the executive in the tailored suit who orders an Americano and is somehow in a rush to get to work, even on a Saturday.

It’s not until the end of the day that Bucky goes through the tip jar and sees a folded piece of paper at the bottom of the bowl. He unfolds it slowly, which allows a twenty-dollar bill to fall from the paper. Bucky could cry. At the money, yes, but more importantly at the piece of paper. It’s a quickly sketched drawing of Bucky in his apron and bun, making a cup of coffee. It’s drawn on a page of a book that was hastily ripped out.

Nine times out of ten, Bucky would be creeped the hell out. But the slip of paper was right underneath the crinkled five that the business executive left as a tip earlier. Which meant that either Susan or Steve _fucking_ Rogers left the drawing and generous tip.

And Susan, the fucking bitch, never tips.

\---

And with that, the ballet is over.

Ballet seems to be an intimidating form of dance. There is so much technique involved. Each move has a distinct name, each leg position has to be precise, each line has to be exact. Yet, only using techniques to describe ballet is incorrect. For the most important aspect of ballet is passion. Without passion, a ballerina would simply be a hollow shell contorting and convulsing its body for a bored audience. With passion, ballet is beautiful.

The two men are dancers. Yet, they are scared to try ballet.

The dancers are foolish for they have the passion already. They just must click play on the music, and let the technique come later. Their bodies know more than their brains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! First chapter done!
> 
> It turns out I'm really bad at tagging stuff (I spent like an hour trying to figure out which tags to put and I think I ended up in a good place but you never know) so if you think I should add any more or take any away, please let me know!
> 
> Or let me know anything! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reason, love you.


	2. Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did I forget to post the summary of the story when I posted yesterday? Yes, yes I did.
> 
> Is it posted now? Yes, thankfully. So, now that's up in case you wanted to get a little trailer for the entire story.
> 
> Other than that, thank you so much for reading chapter 1 and thinking 'yeah, time for chapter 2!' 
> 
> I'll stop talking now, so please turn your attention to Steve and Bucky!

There are a few things that Steve Rogers will never admit, including, but not limited to, the following:

  1. Up until the point where he brought down the Valkyrie, believing that monsters live underneath his childhood bed.
  2. Enjoying _Keeping Up with The Kardashians_ on his modern television.
  3. Waking up at 3:00 AM on a Sunday morning to contemplate going back to the coffee shop he went to the day prior.
  4. Asking JARVIS to illegally access the work schedule of the mentioned coffee shop to see if the same man was working on Sunday.
  5. Thinking about the man that was working on Saturday (and now Sunday) continuously, from the instant he left the coffee shop on Saturday.
  6. Facetiming (for the first time in his life) Nat to help him pick out an outfit, to which she answered the call covered in blood.
  7. Still believing that monsters live underneath his bed.



Yeah, Steve Rogers will never admit to any of that, but sure enough, he’s walking into the coffee shop with a computer, instead of a book, in his hands at precisely 5:10. He figured that 5:00 would be too creepy, and 4:50 would be even creepier. But he couldn’t wait any longer than 5:10 to see the man again.

Okay, Steve can admit that’s creepy. Very creepy.

But something about the man who asked for his order and made him his drink drew him in. Obviously, he’s never seen the barista before, but the moment Steve laid his eyes on him, it felt like he knew him forever. Like all the time in the ice was leading up to Steve meeting this man who worked at a coffee shop across from Avenger’s Tower. Like it was meant to be.

And all that the world knows is that Steve is just wanting to get a cup of coffee at his local coffee shop. There’s nothing creepy about that, right? Right.

The coffee shop is the exact same it was yesterday, with the old lady sitting in her same spot in the corner and the beautiful man standing behind the counter looking back at Steve. Steve could feel the blush leaking onto his face.

He shouldn’t get like this. He really shouldn’t. But it’s not like he can control it. It’s like the man behind the counter has a gravity that Steve is being pulled towards, and at least according to science before he got frozen, you can’t control gravity. In fact, he’s even surprised that he gained the confidence to come back to the coffee shop. But, like the gravity, it felt like he had to. Like a story was written for him to read, or there was a path set in front of him and all he had to do was move one foot in front of the other (yes, he watched _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_ , he had to).

Steve inches towards the counter as the barista watches him step forward. Sam said something weeks prior about tension that’s cut-able with a knife. Now Steve knows what that means. Another thing to check off his modern journal.

“Just a coffee?” the barista asks, reaching down to pick up one of the cups he used yesterday.

“Yeah, uh, that would be great,” Steve responds, awkwardly of course. He starts to reach for his wallet, but the dreamy man speaks up first.

“It’s on the house,” he says with a smile.

“Oh, oh no, it’s fine. I would like to pay.”

“Technically, you get free refills on boring black coffee,” he mentions with the same smile. “But, even without that, with the tip yesterday, I’m kinda obligated to give this to you for free.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Steve manages to get out fairly smoothly. _Come on, Steve. Say something else. You got out of the tower to see the man who’s now in front of you. Don’t chicken out again_. “But, I, uh, thought that free refills only lasted for one day.”

“They do, but you stayed for like five seconds. I figured I would give you an exception.” The man winks, and Steve melts into a puddle. Clean up on Aisle Rogers. “So, take a seat and your _just coffee_ will be out in just a sec.”

\---

_Did you really just wink at Captain America? DID YOU REALLY JUST WINK AT CAPTAIN AMERICA? Lord, please take me now. I don’t want to be here any longer._

Bucky would be screaming right now, but instead, he has to make a stupid iced macchiato for this stupid customer in this stupid coffee shop that for some reason CAPTAIN MOTHERFUCKING AMERICA is at. Nothing makes sense and all is wrong in the world. And Bucky fucking winked at him. Winked that the man Bucky has been obsessed with ever since he got a boner walking through the men’s underwear aisle at Target. The man who drew a fucking sketch of him before running off to probably do Avenger’s saving-the-world shit. And Bucky winked. After he hands the iced macchiato to the customer, he bangs his head into the counter which makes Captain America look up from his computer towards him.

Fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck.

“Are you alright?” the Captain asks, almost getting up from his seat.

“Fine, thanks. Just, uh, slipped,” Bucky manages before getting into the back room. Okay, the morning rush is about to start, which will let Bucky get his mind off of the hot ass piece of meat sitting in the shop right now. Just get through the day and hope that a car hits him on his way home. Sounds like a plan.

Unfortunately, the plan goes to complete shit, because, for the first time in Bucky’s barista career, the morning rush is only an hour long. Which yes, is technically still a rush, but also it only gives an hour for Bucky to not think about the man of his dreams sitting only a few feet from him. What makes it worse is that once it’s obvious the morning rush is over; Steve fucking Rogers decides it’s time to get a refill.

“Hey, would it be possible to get another one of these?” Steve asks, holding up his cup and giving a little shake.

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky takes the cup and heads over to fill it up. He heads back to the counter to discover that Steve is holding up a fiver. “Oh, no, it’s on the house again.”

“It’s, uh, a tip,” he says, hesitantly, placing the bill into the glass jar labeled for tips. It’s crazy how a man who’s so confident in press interviews and fights aliens and even walks with pride talks so hesitantly. Bucky assumes it’s just Steve trying to be nice.

\---

Steve, on the other hand, knows it’s because he’s practically dying inside. For practically the whole last hour, he’s just been staring at the barista. Creepy, once again, but it would be impossible for Steve not to. Even just making drinks, he moves with such a sense of purpose and it makes Steve’s heart ache.

In addition, Steve needs to add another item to the list of things he will always deny. Number 8: Adjusting his own pants when the barista had to bend down to pick up a towel he dropped on the ground.

This barista has made his moral code plummet into the depths of hell.

He takes the cup of coffee from the barista and heads back to his seat, only to find that his computer isn’t working anymore.

Okay, Steve knows he isn’t an expert at computers. Or even close to an expert at computers. Or even close to a beginner at computers. But he knows how to check his emails. And he knows how to go on Facebook. And he knows how to use Google. Actually, he’s still figuring that one out. Stark once told him to help him find a recipe for Blue Waffles, which caused Steve to not venture back onto the internet for a month. Luckily, Sam came to his internet rescue by bookmarking a few sites that post photos of art which Steve spent way, way, way too much time on. But Steve had like 100 years of art to catch up on, so he figured it was excusable.

But now, Steve’s email isn’t working, and he’s been crafting an email to send to Pepper for the past hour, which means he technically wrote one word every five minutes and spent the rest of the time looking at the barista. He taps the mousepad of the computers, frustratedly, but when he clicks “send” nothing happens. And, of course, the barista notices.

“You need help?” he says, moving over to the edge of the counter.

“Oh, uh, no,” Steve pauses. “Actually, yes. This technology stuff is, uh, all still very new to me and I thought I knew how my email worked but now it’s not,” he finishes with a tight, pained smile.

“Don’t worry,” the barista says kindly, making his way towards him after leaving through a small gap in the counter. “Lemme see.” He gets to the table, and it takes all of Steve’s willpower to not combust. The barista leans over to click a few buttons, before standing back up. “You just needed to connect to the WIFI,” he says without a hint of annoyance. When most people help Steve with technology, they either make fun of him or get bothered by Steve’s questions. But not this barista. “Lemme know if you need anything else,” he says with a smile, before walking back to the counter.

\---

For the rest of the day, the two men dance a tango. A tango of many parts. One man leads with his eyes, taking a peek at the other. And as soon as the first set of eyes retreats, the second set responds and takes the lead instead. The first set may then regain control by using his mouth, creating impromptu poetry, and casting a spell on this other through his use of words. The responder is always caught off guard but learns to respond quickly, for it’s a dance after all. The music is always playing. The dancers cannot stop. One man takes a step forward, and the other follows suit. The man then retreats, and so does the follower. They dance for the day and into the night, yet the dancers are clueless about their own creation. For they feel as if they are dancing alone. Performing for an audience that isn’t watching, instead of a dance partner that wants to try a new move. The dancers are foolish for they should know it takes two to tango.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Same goes for yesterday for the tags (I realized like three hours after I posted yesterday that I forgot to include the 5+1 tag which was great)...
> 
> But yeah, thank you so much, love you all, and let me know anything you want in the comments!
> 
> Next chapter, tomorrow!


	3. Lyrical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say, but thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoy chapter three!
> 
> Oh wait, there is some Spanish in this one but I put translations below it so you guys can still read it. Some authors can like have it so you can hover over the text, but I have no idea how to do that, so I did this instead!
> 
> Okay, okay, read away! Thanks!

Bucky’s alarm rings, and he’s dangerously close to breaking it with his metal arm. But he realizes that he would have to clean up scraps of alarm from the floor and that’s not a part of his daily plan, so he instead just smacks the alarm lightly to turn it off. Another early morning for the coffee shop.

The prior week had gone by fairly quickly, mostly because Bucky had a lot of daydream material to work with during his classes. So what if he didn’t pay attention to his professors and instead dreamt about the man who visited the shop twice during the weekend. It’s been a while since Bucky has really had somebody to daydream about if he’s being honest. The last time he was actually into somebody was in high school, and long story short, it didn’t turn out very good. In fact, it turned into a complete shit show, but that’s a story for another time. Sure, there are plenty of college-gays that Bucky could have a good time with, and people were always willing to fool around at the plethora of parties he went to, but the way Bucky is feeling now is different.

And it’s stupid because the feelings are for Captain America, who he will probably never see again. Captain America, who probably has a lot more important things going on in his life than the nameless barista at the coffee shop he went to twice.

So, yeah, very stupid feelings. But, nonetheless, they are brewing in Bucky and they seem to have found a home right behind Bucky’s heart.

Bucky manages to wiggle himself out of bed, then get ready to head to work, which consists of showering and brushing his teeth and brushing his hair and getting dressed and forgetting to eat breakfast. Oh well, his breakfast for the day will be the love of his life (other than Captain America): his six shots of espresso. Bucky manages to leave his apartment and makes it to the subway in time to catch the one to the coffee shop. This means he’s one step closer to another long-ass day at work. If it were any other situation, Bucky would probably be in a bad mood waking up this early on a Saturday, but, secretly, he’s hoping the same man will show up again. And that secret hope is enough to keep Bucky from going apeshit. So, that’s good?

He unlocks the door of the shop without dropping the keys this time, which is nice and gets the shop situated for opening. He makes Susan’s tea and his unholy drink, then opens up the doors for the gross, general public to enter. Susan, of course, is the first customer, and she picks up her tea without saying a word. And once Susan is sitting down, with her pre-made tea, Bucky gets a crazy idea.

It would be stupid, right? He probably won’t even come in and it would just be a waste of product, right? Well, to be fair, Bucky doesn’t give a shit about “product.” Still, making Steve’s coffee before he comes in is weird, right?

Bucky mentally decides that it would be foolish.

Bucky _also_ decides to make a cup of coffee labeled for Steve.

Bucky _also_ decides to place it on the table Steve always sits at.

Bucky decides _he_ is just a fool, as he makes his way back to the counter and imagines the man sitting in his seat drinking the cup of coffee Bucky made for him. That’s when the doorbell chimes and the six-foot-one Greek god of a man walks into the coffee shop. He walks to the counter with the same dichotomy of external confidence and internal insecurity as last time. Instead of a book or computer, he holds a sketchpad in his hands.

“Just a coffee, please,” he says. Bucky smiles and uses his thumb, weirdly, to point to the table which has a lonely coffee cup on top of it. “Oh, thanks!” he says excitedly, reaching to pull out the wallet from his pocket.

“On the house,” Bucky manages to get out of his mouth relatively normally. That’s when the bell rings, meaning another customer walked into the store. “Don’t fight me on it, and besides, I have another customer to help.” Bucky steps to the side to look at the woman walking into the shop. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

The morning rush actually exists today, which makes Bucky die inside. But he manages it, and by 10, the only people in the shop are Susan, this random couple, and Steve. Bucky’s cleaning up the counter when Steve turns to him from his seat.

“Crazy morning?” he asks politely, getting up with his empty coffee cup. Bucky turns over to look at the man walking towards him.

“Yeah,” he laughs lightly. “People seem to really like their morning coffee.”

“I can see why.” Bucky grabs the cup from Steve’s hand, taking it to give him a refill.

“What do you mean?”

Steve blushes then turns his head to look at the shop. “Well, this shop is nice. I think. It’s the only coffee shop I have been to since the forties,” he says, turning back to look at Bucky. “The service could use some work though.” Bucky playfully rolls his eyes before handing the freshly filled cup of coffee to Steve.

“The service is giving you free coffee, punk,” Bucky jokes. “But you can leave a complaint in the trashcan at the front of the store.”

“Okay,” Steve responds with a smile. “Thanks for the coffee, jerk.” And with that, he returns to his seat. Bucky finally can breathe again.

The day starts to move along after that, with Bucky having to help a few other customers. When he’s not making somebody’s drink, he’s watching Captain America sketch something in his notebook while taking smalls sips of his coffee. Time seems to be working differently for the two of them as if the time they are spending in proximity to one another is separate from the rest of the world. Yet, the time still does click forward and by 2:00, Bucky’s stomach is growling. Usually, at this time, there are rarely any customers in the shop, which means he can take a lunch break. Even Susan left an hour or so ago, but Steve Rogers is still sitting in his seat, on his 4th cup of coffee, fucking up Bucky’s beautiful sandwich plan.

So now, Bucky is in quite a predicament, and his body is arguing with itself. While his stomach is begging for him to put a sandwich into his body, his heart is aching at the sight of the store’s lone customer, his brain is telling him he can’t have a lunch break while there is still a fucking customer in the fucking shop where he is the only fucking employee, and his dick is telling him a boatload of other information. Bucky can rule out his dick (unfortunately), but his stomach and heart and brain are gonna have to compromise.

Bucky goes to take off his apron before talking to Steve. “I’m gonna take my lunch break if that’s all right,” he says, hesitantly. Steve rushes to close his sketchpad.

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry,” Steve bumbles out. “I can leave, I didn’t mean to ruin your schedule,” he says, standing up from his chair. Fuck.

“No, no, you’re chilling. I just wanted to let you know,” Bucky says, stepping out from behind the counter. “I mean, you’re Captain America. I trust you won’t ruin this place when I leave you alone for 15 minutes,” he continues with a smile.

“Thank you, but I really don’t want to be a burden.”

“Trust me, having Captain America as a customer is not a burden,” Bucky pauses, then continues talking fast to cover his tracks. “It’s probably good for business or something. You’re like free advertisement.” This elicits a laugh from Steve. “I could even pick up a sandwich for you if you want. Because, between you and me, the food served at this establishment is dog shit.”

“I’ve probably had worse,” Steve jokes. “Mind if I tag along?”

Bucky’s brain is telling him "no, Steve can't come", while his heart and stomach (and his dick) are telling him "yes please". Two (three) against one. He nods his head, which Steve responds to by getting up from his seat.

They end up walking down the street to the closest bodega. When Bucky walks in, the clerk greets him. Bucky has been here enough that he’s a regular, and the clerk likes him because Bucky speaks to him in Spanish. They gossip with each other, as loudly as they please, while other customers are none the wiser. Bucky yells that he wants his usual from across the store, but the clerk doesn’t seem to process it. That’s because the clerk is only focusing on the fucking Avenger that’s coming in behind Bucky. After a few seconds of the clerk just blinking in shocked silence, he finally speaks up.

“¿Está aquí contigo?” he asks loudly.

_“Is he here with you?”_

“Oh,” Bucky turns to look at the man behind him. “Sí,” he says with a smile.

_“Yes.”_

“¿Está aquí _contigo_ contigo?” he repeats.

_“Is he here_ with you _with you?”_

“Ojalá, pero no.” Bucky responds, turning back to the clerk. “No creo que al hombre de estrellas con un plan le gusten la pinga.”

_“I wish, but no.” “I don’t think the star-spangled man with a plan likes dick.”_

“Quizás no de un gringo. Pero un latino puede cambiar de opinion,” the clerk responds quickly.

_“Maybe not from a white man. But a Latino can change his mind.”_

“Oh, callate! Tengo hambre,” Bucky says, rubbing his stomach.

_“Oh, shut up! I’m hungry.”_

“Hambre de esa pinga de los 40!” the clerk jokes, raising his hands in the air as a sign that will be the last of it. This leads to Bucky turning back around to face the main subject of the conversation.

_“Hungry for 1940’s dick!”_

“¿Qué quieres?” Bucky says, not catching the fact he’s still talking in Spanish. “Sorry, what do you want?”

Steve seems to snap out of a zoned-out trance before looking at Bucky to respond. He must have been looking at the store, paying no mind to the two horny _mericons_ talking about him. “A ham sandwich has never failed me,” he says with a tight smile.

They end up getting their sandwiches and walking back to the coffee shop. Steve said that he legally had to pay for them, to make up for the coffee, to which Bucky protested to no prevail. The worst part was that Bucky’s heart fluttered when Steve said he would buy the sandwiches. Stupid fucking feelings. They make their way back to the shop, Steve sitting back down in his seat and Bucky returning behind the counter. They both wish that Bucky was in the seat across from Steve, but both are too scared to take any action to the completion of their wishes.

Bucky loves the local bodega for two reasons. One, it’s always nice to have somebody to joke with. And two, the sandwiches are huge. Bucky is always only able to finish half of it, saving the other half for dinner or giving it to somebody who looks like they need it. The latter event is the case for today, for Bucky catches Steve eying his remaining half of sandwich as soon as he finished guzzling down his own. Yeah, Bucky knew he was a super-soldier (whatever that meant) but damn, that man can eat.

“You can have the rest of mine if you want,” Bucky says, holding the remaining half and walking to the edge of the counter.

“Thank you, but no. I couldn’t,” Steve replies quickly.

“Please, you bought them, and I can never finish mine,” Bucky pauses, then smiles. “Captain America would tell you not to waste food, wouldn’t he?” Bucky teases. Steve rolls his eyes.

“You got me there,” he gets up out of his seat to grab the sandwich. “Thanks,” he says, dragging the end of the word, asking a silent question.

“It’s Bucky.”

“Thanks, Bucky.”

\---

Lyrical dance speaks for itself. The dancers perform based on the lyrics of the song. When the singer portrays one emotion through the words they sing, the dancers mimic the feeling. Yet, it’s easy to forget that what’s unspoken can be just as important. If a singer were to sing a line of sorrow then continue with a line of joy, the dancer must not skip between. The dancer must show the transformation and dance between the lines.

Our two dancers have also sung today. They sang their hearts out, and even when they were silent, the messages from within leaked out. Yet, they were not only singing, they were dancing too. Dancing in response to what the other said.

Our dancers are foolish for they sang with meanings that hid in between words, yet only danced with the lyrics that were said aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that all the comments are SO KIND OMG!!! It makes my day reading them.
> 
> Chapter 4 will be out tomorrow!
> 
> Let me know anything, love you all, mwah!


	4. Tap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okee, dokee, here's another chapter!
> 
> I don't really have any notes for this one, so I'll just let you jump right in.
> 
> Lights, camera, action!

The prior week had been the longest week of Steve’s life, even longer than the one where he first went into the ice and came out again. After getting home on Sunday, he quickly asked JARVIS when the next time the barista would be working, to which JARVIS responded with Saturday. That meant that Steve had to wait basically an entire week just to see the barista again, who had somehow pulled Steve in head over heels.

On Tuesday, Nat got back from “her family” and was instantly asking Steve what he was up to, in order for her to avoid any questions about herself. Steve usually didn’t have much to share, mostly just listing the new movies (new being a very relative term because a movie from the 1970s could be considered knew to Steve) he watched or music he started listening to. This time, however, Steve actually had something to share. Or, rather, somebody.

“So, on Saturday, I wanted to get out of the tower, and I found this coffee shop across the street. I figured I could survive a coffee shop by myself,” Steve told her as she was removing knives that were hidden throughout her body. She nods, prompting Steve to continue. “And,” Steve paused due to the fact Nat was then taking off her combat suit in Steve’s living room.

“Continue, I’m good at multi-tasking,” she added.

“Well, to put it simply, I found the barista of the shop mighty fine.” Nat stopped what she was doing instantly.

“Steve!” she yelled, running over to him. “Steven Grant Rogers, the player! Oh, thank god you let me pick out your outfit. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but, uh, he’s actually a fellow,” Steve commented, expecting some sort of response from Nat. He truly had been meaning to tell her, but he never felt like the time would be right. Why tell her that he likes fellas when there was never a fella around to like? He also hoped that would explain why he said no to all the girls she suggested. Yet, instead of a vocal reaction, Nat just took out her phone and called somebody.

“Clint, you owe me a hundred,” she said sharply, before hanging up and putting her phone on the counter. “But, Steve, I’m truly happy for you. So much that I won’t rub it in your face that I knew you were gay the moment I met you. Took you long enough to tell me.” She walked over to get closer to Steve. “So, when do I get to meet him?” she said, twirling a knife between her fingers.

“Probably never,” Steve responded. “As I said, I went on Saturday but stayed for all about five minutes. I left a nice tip and a quick drawing, but I still basically ran away. Then I went back on Sunday, and I stayed for the whole day. But I only talked to him maybe twice.” Steve paused. “I’m not good at the whole flirting thing,” he admitted.

“I can tell,” she said before continuing. “But you’re Captain America, which means everybody wants to get with you. Women and men alike. You just have to be more confident,” she paused. “But, you’re also Steve Rogers, which makes you way too good for all the people who do want to get with you.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“Steve, it is,” she said with a flat voice. “When are you going back?”

“The next time he works is Saturday- don’t ask me how I know that- but I probably won’t go. I think seeing him twice is all my heart can take.”

“Steve, you’re going back whether you like it. Actually, if you want to really impress him, I can run in and pretend to be some common criminal and I’ll let you take me down.”

“Nat, no.”

That’s how his conversation with Nat went, but at least it convinced him enough to visit on Saturday. And seeing him on Saturday, gave him enough motivation to go on Sunday, which is why he’s in the coffee shop once again. He came in at the same time, 5:10, and his coffee was, once again, already on his table. Bucky’s, as he now knew was his name, smile was able to wake him up more than coffee ever could have.

Last night, after coming back from the shop, Nat told him he needed to make a move. Steve knew he could never just _make a move_ , so he had to find a commonplace. Find a way to make sure that Bucky would know he was interested without risking complete humiliation. That’s why he brought one of his favorite books with him to the shop today, that he could try to read but end up only getting a few sentences through because he would end up spending all his time looking at Bucky.

Steve brought _Better Angel_ , a book that he read back before the ice, that told him the things he felt weren’t only him feeling them. And somehow told him that despite the world telling him it was wrong; he knew it was right. Luckily, when he woke up in the 21st century, a lot more people thought it was right, too.

Steve sits down in his signature spot and smiles at Bucky, who smiles back at him. He takes a sip of the hot coffee and opens his book, making sure that the cover is easily readable in case Bucky ever cared enough to look.

The morning rush comes in, which gives Steve plenty of time to take in the barista that’s been infesting his mind for the past week. Since Bucky’s so busy making drinks, there’s no way he’ll notice the super-soldier staring at him, right? Another example of Steve Roger’s perfect logic. The rush starts to die down (way too fast for Steve’s liking) which means Steve has to go back to pretending to read the book he brought along with him. First, however, he can get another cup of coffee, which he knows is just an excuse to talk to Bucky. Steve gets up from his seat and walks over to the now-empty counter which only has the dreamy man standing behind it.

“Another cup, if you can,” he says, politely, holding his cup out to the barista. Bucky pulls his mouth into a tight line, and Steve panics. What did he do?

“End of the line, punk,” Bucky responds, gesturing to the invisible line behind Steve. Steve laughs at the joke, but mostly at the relief that he didn’t fuck up.

“This is the horrible service I was talking about, jerk,” Steve plays along, handing his cup to Bucky’s outstretched arm. Bucky takes the cup with a smile on his face, and Steve hopes that the brief moment where their hands touch each other is not an accident. Bucky fills the cup quickly, handing it back to Steve.

“I spit in your coffee. Thought I should let you know,” Bucky adds.

“Wow, I must be the luckiest man in the world!” Steve jokes. But he’s not joking. Not in the slightest.

“Now get out of my hair, I have too many customers to attend to now that you cut the line.” Bucky points to the old lady sitting in the corner of the shop.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says, walking back to his seat, but wanting so desperately to stay talking to Bucky. But his tongue is tied, and the fear of saying something that he’ll regret is too heavy of a weight to hold, even for a super-soldier. So, he takes his seat and goes back to pretending to read.

It’s about an hour or so later that Bucky strikes up another conversation. “Aren’t you supposed to be out protecting the world instead of drinking coffee for free?” he asks, playfully.

“Young man, you should be grateful that there isn’t anything to protect against currently,” Steve responds in his Captain America voice, instantly. However, despite the authority in his voice, he responded way too anxiously, so all he can do is pray that Bucky didn’t pick up on it.

“Whatever you say, Captain,” Bucky says, doing a fake military salute. Steve assumes that the universe is trying to fuck him over when the door opens, and a customer walks into the shop, cutting their conversation short.

Hours later, they get lunch again, at the same place. Steve actually really likes the bodega, and this time he gets two sandwiches instead of just one. Bucky (cutely) protests to Steve paying, but Steve uses his Captain voice again and wins the debate over who pays. This leads to Bucky saying he’ll never invite Steve to lunch again, which Steve responds to by saying he knows it’s a lie.

They get back to the shop and, to Steve’s demise, Bucky goes back to behind the counter. Come on, Steve. Say something. Anything.

“I may be a super soldier, but I don’t bite, ya know,” Steve says, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. Bucky turns to him and smiles. Steve could die right now, and he would die in peace.

“If you insist,” Bucky responds with a faux sense of annoyance. Steve gets up to pull the seat out for Bucky, and Bucky sits. Steve sits too. And they both sit and eat and forget about the world, for their whole world is sitting just a foot across.

Steve almost starts to cry when the sun starts to set, because that means that the shop is closing, which means he won’t see Bucky again for another five days. Nat’s voice echoes in his head. _Make a move, Steve. Make a move._

Steve looks over to the counter and sees Bucky cleaning up the equipment for tomorrow. How can something so simple and seemingly insignificant be so beautiful?

“Well, it’s closing time,” Bucky says, walking out from behind the counter. “Unfortunately, you cannot stay here overnight.” Steve laughs.

“I would never stay in this run-down shop when my house is just across the street,” Steve responds. _Okay, no, that’s too much, Rogers. Pull it back._ “Though, I have been meaning to ask how you get home when it’s so dark out.”

“Oh, I just take the subway. They had those back in the 40s, right?” Bucky jokes.

“Is that safe?” Steve asks, too quickly.

“Captain America, I’m an adult man. I can fend for myself, thank you.”

“Yes, yes, you’re a big strong man. But it’s always better safe than sorry,” Steve pauses. _Okay, Rogers, bring down the final blow. You’re so close._ “How about you text me when you get back, just so I can know you get home safe?”

“Captain America wants to give me his number?” Bucky jokes. “Who am I to refuse?” Steve smiles. This leads to Steve scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to Bucky. They then say their goodbyes and, physically, head home their separate ways. Mentally, however, they are still in each other’s minds.

Thirty minutes later, Steve could practically die of excitement when a message from an unknown number comes into his phone that reads “got home safe mom”. Another one comes in a second later: “nobody tried to kill me”.

\---

Tap dance is different from the dances so far. Tap is all about rhythm and moving in sync with the beat of the music. A tap dancer cannot miss a beat, for it will throw the whole combination off. They can’t be too slow or too fast, they just have to be one with the music. They can’t hesitate. They must move.

Our dancers seem to have found the beat and tap with their sentences that fit perfectly between the others. Their rhythm is playful banter, but they are still missing something.

Our dancers are foolish for they are too scared of hesitation. Yet without risk, there can be no reward, and sometimes, even, the fear itself can lead to a missed beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters left! Exciting!
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. It means a lot!
> 
> Love you all, and tell me anything!


	5. Contemporary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again!
> 
> Once again, no notes for this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy the show!

Instead of using daydreams to distract himself from his class and professors, Bucky’s phone has been a great tool to make him forget that his teachers are actually telling him information that’s crucial to get his degree. Bucky _should_ pay attention, he knows that. But, Bucky _would_ rather text Captain America during class. So, that’s what he does. And he doesn’t regret it.

From the time he got home on Sunday to Wednesday night, Bucky and Steve were texting non-stop. Bucky hates himself for thinking it’s cute and endearing that Steve signs off on all his texts with a “-S.” Bucky hates himself even more for never telling him that he doesn’t need to do that.

But, so what, Bucky is texting the man who was once a celebrity crush and is now a real-life crush, so of course he's gonna find it cute. Don’t hate him for living his life!

But then Thursday comes around, and Bucky hasn’t received a “Good Morning -S” text from Steve that always comes in at 5:00. Bucky knows he shouldn’t think too much of it. But, alas, the human mind is weak, and Bucky is Bucky, so for the whole day at class, he overthinks why he didn’t get a text that morning and had to text Steve good morning with no response. He even swallows his pride and double-texts Steve after his classes are over, but, once again, no response. This causes Bucky to spiral even more and re-read all of their previous text messages to see if he said something that would make the Avenger upset. He marks down the time of three messages that could be interpreted poorly and says he’ll review them later. And by later, he means once he gets data again after the subway home from college went in a tunnel. For the rest of Thursday (and then Friday), all Bucky can do is think about why Steve isn’t responding.

And now that it’s Saturday, Bucky is paranoid that Steve won’t come into the coffee shop. Did he really think he had a shot with Captain motherfucking America? He probably just felt sorry for Bucky and wanted to make somebody’s day because he’s such a good person. But something more important than Bucky came up, which could literally be anything, so Steve had to move on from his quick little charity project. And Bucky now has to move on too, because the clock strikes 5:10, and the cup of coffee is still all by itself on the table.

By 5:20, Bucky walks to the back room to make sure all the tears are off of his face by checking the mirror. He does, and by 5:30, he’s back behind the counter waiting for the morning rush. He walks to Steve's table and takes the still-full, now-cold coffee to pour down the drain. And he tells himself that he doesn’t care, and it doesn’t matter. But he knows that he does care and that somehow, in just two weeks, Steve made himself matter to Bucky.

The morning rush comes and goes, and eventually, it’s just Bucky and Susan in the shop. And for the first time in two weeks, the shop truly feels empty and cold. Bucky gets the horrible idea that another six shots of espresso will help. He’s about to pull the shots when the doorbell chimes and a very injured super soldier walks into the shop. He walks with a limp, and one of his arms is at a weird angle. His face- his beautiful face- has a giant black eye and a thick, fresh, still-forming scar decorating the cheek. Bucky almost starts crying again.

“Oh my god, Steve,” Bucky practically gasps as he escapes from behind the counter to walk over to the injured (yet somehow still attractive… something is definitely wrong with Bucky) man.

“I’m alright,” he says with a tight smile. “I just got back from a mission a few hours ago, which is why I look like this.” He gestures to his face. “I’m alright,” he repeats, looking directly at Bucky, almost sensing Bucky’s heartbeat that’s racing out of his chest. “But I could really use a coffee.”

“Oh my god, of course. Take a seat, please.” Steve does just that and slumps down into his seat. A small groan comes out of his mouth, which would have been a large groan from any sane person who doesn’t always pretend that they are okay. Bucky makes the coffee as quickly as possible and brings it over to Steve's seat. He notices that Steve is trying to get out of his seat to meet in the middle, but Bucky tells him to “sit the fuck back down.” To that, Steve says “thanks.”

Steve takes a giant sip of his drink before speaking. “Sorry for not texting for the past few days,” he apologizes. “On missions, we aren’t allowed to contact anybody.” Bucky goes back to the counter to get another cup of coffee because the current cup seems to be going pretty fast when he responds.

“No need to be sorry about anything,” he says, kindly, smiling over at Steve. “Why are you even here anyway, if you just got back from a mission?”

“I wanted to see you,” Steve responds, softly.

“As much as I know it would be better if you were sleeping, I’m glad to see you too,” Bucky comments, handing Steve the extra cup of coffee to which Steve grips with both of his hands. Bucky then leans forward to get a close look at the bruises and scars on Steve's face (and he might also use it as an excuse to stare into the super soldier’s eyes, but Steve is definitely not complaining). “That looks nasty. Do you want something for it? Like some ice?”

Steve is about to say no, but then he gives in to the ache on his face. “It’ll probably heal by tomorrow, but some ice would be great,” he says softly. But as soon Bucky walks away, he wishes that he would have said “no,” just so that Bucky might stay for just one second longer.

Bucky comes back soon enough with an ice pack that he got from the back room. He hands it to Steve when the doorbell rings, meaning another customer just came in. Lord forgive him for his language, but Steve wishes the customer would fuck off.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Bucky says as he heads back to behind the counter. Despite it being only a few feet away, it is _way_ too far.

For the following hours, whenever Bucky isn’t helping a customer or making a drink, Steve and Bucky chat about random things. Bucky will make a reference to something to which Steve doesn’t know, which then means Bucky will go on an extended rant to make it make sense. Steve just listens along, completely smitten.

By the time lunch rolls around, Bucky pulls a forceful and powerful voice out of his ass and tells Steve to stay seated while Bucky goes to pick up the sandwiches for the two of them. Steve tries to object, but even Steve knows this is an argument he can’t win, and his leg is begging for him to not put his massive bodyweight on it when he doesn’t have to. So, Bucky walks by himself down the bodega, which just leaves Steve and the old lady in the shop all by themselves. The old lady stayed late today, which Steve didn’t realize until she turned around on her seat to face him from across the store.

“Steve Rogers, is it?” she says with a soft voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, a little off guard.

“The name is Susan,” she responds, taking a sip of her tea that she somehow still has not finished. “Enjoying your coffee?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve repeats. He tries to ignore the little voice in him that tells him he is probably older than this woman.

“Good, that’s quite good,” she takes another sip of her drink. She clears her voice softly, then continues speaking. “Young man, I don’t care that you go out and save the world. I wouldn’t care if you were an international drug lord. All I care about the heart of the sweet, sweet, young man you have recently become close to. You understand, young man?” Her voice is now shockingly dark.

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve repeats for the third time, now terrified.

“Good. So, if you ever, _ever_ , hurt the heart of that incredible boy, you will never forget it. I may be old and not able to sleep, but I still have connections. Are you following, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve says for hopefully the last time, on the verge of shitting himself.

“Good,” she gets up from her chair and walks over to the door, tossing her teacup into the trash. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” She walks out of the coffee shop before Steve can respond.

Steve hopes that was only a hallucination from his own sleep deprivation, but he knows that after the serum, he no longer gets hallucinations. He stares into the black of his coffee until Bucky comes back in with his sandwiches.

As the day winds to a close, Steve and Bucky have finally decided to stop pretending that they aren’t looking at each other. Steve didn’t even bring anything to pretend to do today. Eventually, after trying to drag the day out for as long as possible, Bucky is locking the front door as the two of them stand in front of it.

“Text me when you get home again,” Steve tells Bucky.

“Only if you actually respond this time,” Bucky responds quickly. He had that one prepared. They both laugh.

“I meant to tell you,” Steve adds. “I have a debrief for all of tomorrow, so I can’t come in. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Bucky sighs out. “No need to be sorry. You gotta do what you gotta do to save the Earth,” Bucky says with a fake smile. Steve responds with the same smile. Both of them wish they had the confidence to propose the idea of continuing to spend time with one another. They both wish they could discuss movies Steve doesn’t know over a plate of pasta or talk about how New York has changed while eating ice cream. But instead of following through with their dreams, they let the natural flow take its place which means that Steve is walking back to the tower and Bucky is walking back to the subway. And the both of them are alone, and would be lonely if it were not for the memories of the other walking with them.

\---

Contemporary dance is an interesting dance to perform. It’s an elegant creation, made from combining different aspects of other genres. It requires the technique of ballet and can be performed in pairs, like a tango. Contemporary dancers must listen to the lyrics of the music in order to give a captivating performance and must find the rhythm of the music just like in tap. At this point, our dancers should be experts at this contemporary dance. No? Alas, contemporary dance does not just take from other dances, it also creates its own defining features. And that is the most challenging part.

Our dancers are foolish, for despite having all the fundamentals to be phenomenal contemporary dancers, they are letting the challenge of starting something new and paving a new path limit them from truly dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, only one chapter left! Crazy!
> 
> Also, tomorrow's chapter is an extra long one, so that's exciting!
> 
> Anywho, thank you all so much for reading again and sticking with this story and for leaving kudos! A big big thank you to all the commenters, you all truly make my day. 
> 
> Love you all, let me know anything! See you tomorrow (hopefully!)


	6. Ballroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! The "+1" of this 5 + 1 Thing. 
> 
> Um, my only note is that if you do some basic detective work, you can figure what's in this chapter based on the tags, if that makes sense.
> 
> Anyways, without further ado, Bucky and Steve, take it away one final time.
> 
> Enjoy the dance!

For the first time in weeks, Bucky actually dreads going to work. Is this what it felt like before Steve started coming in? If so, he hopes Steve will never leave. And although he knows that Steve is going to find another coffee shop eventually, for now, Bucky is satisfied believing that Steve will always come into his.

But Bucky being Bucky fucking forgot that today was the last day he was working for the whole day on the weekend. The owners are supposed to come back from vacation tomorrow, which means that Bucky will no longer be the only person manning the shop, which means a lot of things for the interesting dynamic that Bucky and Steve have right now. For one, Bucky will no longer be able to give free coffee to Steve, which isn’t that big of a deal, but it’s also a very big deal because the only game Bucky has is giving people drinks for free. For two (is that proper grammar? Bucky doesn’t care), Bucky will no longer be able to spend the entirety of his shift talking to Steve because his coworker (who is the fucking owner) will tell him to get back to work, which is _actually_ a big deal. For three (Bucky is just going with it at this point), the owner always works the morning shift by himself for the most part, and Bucky was used to coming in later except on the few occasions he had something later in the day. So that meant Steve would come into the coffee shop, and won’t see Bucky, and everything will go to fucking shit.

But Bucky isn’t going to let that happen. Because on the subway to work, Bucky hatches a plan that will probably turn into a bigger pile of fucking shit (one that is also on fire). But with Bucky being Bucky, he’s going to do it anyway.

Bucky opens up the shop, and for some wild reason, hopes that the morning rush is excruciatingly long, so that time flies by faster and 2:00 will roll on by even faster. Because Steve said he would be in meetings all day. And at 2:00, Bucky can take his lunch break and close up the shop for a little bit. Which means Bucky can walk across the street with a cup of coffee in hand, and deliver it to Captain motherfucking America, himself.

Is the plan stupid? Yes. Is there way too much that can go wrong? Yes. Will Bucky probably not even be able to get into Avengers Tower? Yes. Despite all of this, is Bucky going to do it anyway? Yes. One hundred percent yes.

The doorbell chimes, waking him up from the daydream of his plan in action. He looks up to see Susan walking in as usual. Bucky goes to get the tea he prepared and is about to hand it to her when she begins to talk.

“Have you fucked him yet?” she asks in a soft, grandma voice. Bucky audibly gasps.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me,” she continues. “Have you fucked the hunk of meat that keeps on coming into the shop?”

“Um, uh, no. Unfortunately, I haven’t, Susan,” Bucky manages to get out.

“Please hurry up and get it over with. The tension in here is palpable.” And with that, she grabs her tea. She starts to walk back to her seat, before turning back to Bucky. "I'm happy for you," she says softly, finally sitting down.

Bucky is still in a state of shock an hour later when the morning rush really starts to pick up. To both his delight and demise, the morning rush extends into the late morning, which means it’s only a few more hours until he can finally put his awful plan into action. If the plan goes to complete shit, then Bucky can just get blackout drunk on Friday to forget it all because he doesn’t have work the next day. That’s a win-win in Bucky’s book.

Two o’clock finally rolls around, and the shop is empty. Even Susan left. Perfect. The plan is going alright so far. Bucky makes the cup of coffee for Steve, scribbling his name of the cup just for effect, before heading out of the shop and locking the doors behind him. He j-walks across the street, luckily not getting hit by any cars (which was _not_ a part of his plan), and manages to make it in the lobby of the tower.

Okay, Bucky knew that Avenger’s Tower would be nice. But not this nice. No way. The lobby itself has to be like 10 stories high, and that’s just the lobby. There’s no way in hell, heaven, or purgatory that Bucky is getting in. But he’s already here. So, he might as well try. He walks up to the receptionist, who instantly pays attention to Bucky as he walks closer to her.

“I have a coffee delivery for Steve Rogers, from across the street,” Bucky says, waving the cup in his hand. He tries to sound as official as possible like this is just a part of his job, but the receptionist can probably see through it. To his surprise, the receptionist just tells him to head to the farthest elevator, and it’ll take him to Steve.

Did that work? Did that actually work? Did Bucky’s master genius plan actually just fucking work?

Bucky walks to the elevator with a pep in his step and presses the button on the wall. The elevator opens instantly, and he steps inside. The door closes behind him and Bucky’s heart is racing due to the fact he’s about the see Steve. The elevator starts to move up without Bucky even needing to press a button and Bucky’s excited-ness seems to be growing along with it.

That’s when the elevator stops, and a robotic voice chimes in from the top of the elevator.

“Greetings, passenger. I am JARVIS. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the voice says.

“Nice to meet you too,” Bucky says hesitantly, trying to find where the voice is coming from.

“Unfortunately, The Tower does not accept food deliveries. Please depart the elevator when we arrive on the bottom floor.”

“Oh, this is, uh, surprise delivery for Steve. He usually comes into the coffee shop to get this, so I thought I’d just bring it to him” Bucky continues with slightly more confidence.

“Unfortunately, The Tower does not accept food deliveries. Please allow me to perform a scan and send the scan to sir.” There’s a brief pause before the voice continues. “You seem to have a weapon on you, located in your left sleeve. Why would one need a weapon for a food delivery?”

“Holy fuck, it’s a fucking prosthetic arm,” Bucky complains, pulling up his left sleeve.

“Weapon Located. Initiating Elevator Protection Protocols,” the voice says with a sense of coldness.

And that’s when the elevator starts to drop, really fast. Like really fucking fast.

And for some fucking reason, it reopens this scar in Bucky’s brain that was just healing closed. Bucky collapses onto the floor, and his breathing starts to get quicker and quicker, the faster the elevator falls. Suddenly, the lights of the elevator go out, and it just makes everything worse. Bucky squeezes his eyes closed and he feels his heart pumping out of his chest. He pulls his body into a fetal position when he starts to see it. The desert field below, getting closer and closer every second. It goes black again. And then it’s the fire, all the fucking fire coming from all around him. And then it’s black. And it’s desert. Then it’s black. Then it’s fire. And the cycle repeats and repeats as the elevator falls, then raises back up to fall again. Bucky can’t tell how long it goes for until he’s screaming in the metal box that won’t let him out. He’s pounding on the doors, begging the voice to let him go. His shirt is soaked with tears at this point. He ends up back in the corner, shaking on the floor, seeing the desert and the fire flash in his eyes, until the lights finally turn back on.

“We hope you enjoyed your visit here to Avenger’s Tower. Please come again,” the voice says, but he can barely hear because the noises of the desert and the fire are still blasting in his ears as he runs back to the coffee shop. He barely spots the spilled cup of coffee, discarded in the elevator, out of the corner of his eye when the elevator door closes.

\---

“What do you mean somebody tried to deliver me coffee?” Steve asks Stark once the debrief is over.

“I mean somebody who looks the fucking Manchurian Candidate tried to deliver you coffee. I truly don’t know how much clearer I can be,” Stark responds. “But JARVIS was able to scare him off. You gotta be safe out there, Cap. You never know what creeps are going to lure you into the back of a white van,” Stark adds, but Steve is already out of the room.

He jams the button of the elevator, and when it opens up, it smells of coffee. He begs JARVIS to go faster. Soon enough, he’s running into the coffee shop, where Bucky is now staring at him with lifeless eyes. It’s like Bucky isn’t even looking at him, just looking forward but not actually seeing what’s in front of him.

“Buck,” Steve exclaims, running to the counter. Bucky looks up to meet his eyes.

“Stevie?” he cries with a cracked voice. That prompts Steve to hop over the counter and bring Bucky into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” the super-soldier repeats into the back of Bucky’s neck, over and over, and over and over, until he finally feels Bucky hug him back. Steve pulls away, whispering out one more “I’m so sorry.”

Bucky just stands there, like a hollow shell.

“What did Stark do to you?” Steve asks, but Bucky just shakes his head. Steve nods, his heart aching.

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Steve says, painfully backing away from Bucky. “Do you want me to stay here, or-” Bucky cuts him off by shaking his head.

“Okay, okay, of course. I’ll head out,” Steve replies with a pained voice. He hops over the counter again, to allow the metal to separate the two of them again. “Buck, if there’s anything I can do, anything, please just let me know.” Steve starts to walk to the entrance, wanting to give Bucky space, despite how much it hurts to see Bucky like this. It’s what Bucky wants. Steve pushes open the door, before turning around to face the man he loves.

“You can stop by my place tonight, if you want to talk, Buck. I’ll tell the receptionist, and, uh, you can take the stairs.” Bucky doesn’t respond, so Steve walks out of the shop and closes the door behind him.

\---

By closing time, Bucky is feeling a little bit more like himself. After getting back to the shop, after the whole elevator fiasco, not many customers came in, which was a relief. Bucky was basically in a haze for the rest of the day, all the seconds blurring together before his eyes. What happened in the elevator was one of the worst _things_ Bucky has had in a while. In fact, the last time it happened had to be at least a year ago.

Bucky uses a towel to wipe coffee grounds off of the counter. It’s been three years ago since his honorable discharge, meaning it’s been three years since he lost his arm, and three years since the crash in the desert. Bucky shivers at his memories as he continues to clean the counter. After he was done physically recovering from the incident, the mental recovery took a much longer time. Stuff like what happened in the elevator happened almost every day, then they faded into once a week, then once a month. Then, after two years, they weren’t happening anymore, and Bucky got used to it. Got used to not reliving the same day over and over.

Then the fucking elevator had to fuck everything up. At least, at this point in the day, Bucky is angrier, rather than any other emotion. Which is progress in Bucky’s book. Stupid fucking elevator.

Bucky finishes cleaning up the shop, hanging up his apron on the hook in the back room. He turns off the lights, and exits the shop all by himself, locking the door behind him. When he turns around to face the street, that’s when he sees Avenger’s Tower sitting directly across the street, taunting him.

That’s also when Bucky remembers Steve coming into the shop, to check to make sure Bucky was okay. Which, at that point, he wasn’t, which is why Bucky is just now recognizing that Steve came in at all. He replays the few minutes that Steve came for in his head, to the best of his blurry ability.

Okay, so, Bucky knows that he doesn’t _need_ to explain what happened today, to Steve. He knows that. He also knows that talking about it while he’s still a little on edge will probably just make it worse, which is something Bucky is definitely not going for.

But- but he also knows that if he were in Steve’s shoes, he would want to know. And he also knows that if Steve was really worried about Bucky getting home safe, he would be worried sick right about now.

So that’s why, instead of heading to the subway station, Bucky holds his breath and j-walks across the street to the Tower of Terror.

\---

Steve is about to make himself a giant dinner for himself to stress eat while stress watching _Keeping Up with The Kardashians_ when he hears a knock at the stairwell entrance of his floor. His heart rate picks up from the already accelerated pace it’s been at ever since the end of the debrief. The super soldier leaves the refrigerator open as he goes running to the door. Reaching it, he opens it slowly to reveal Bucky standing at the top of the staircase, looking smaller than he ever has before.

“Buck,” he practically whispers, which makes Bucky look up from his feet to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” Bucky responds, running a hand through his hair, his right hand. Not his gloved one.

“Please come in,” Steve adds, quickly, opening the door up for Bucky. Bucky nods gratefully and steps inside, looking around Steve’s floor.

“This place is pretty nice,” Bucky says, looking at the different furniture and decorations.

“Thanks,” Steve says awkwardly. “You can, uh, take a seat anywhere,” he adds when he sees Bucky standing, hesitantly, in the center of the living room. Bucky takes a seat on the couch, and Steve runs over to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water before sitting down on the other side of the sofa. He hands one of the glasses to Bucky, to which Bucky grabs with his left hand, the gloved one, with a tight smile on his face. Bucky’s about to take a sip when he drops the glass, it soon shattering on the floor.

“Oh, fuck you!” Bucky yells as a reflex to his left arm, before looking down at the mess on the floor. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky continues, soon after. Steve is already getting up to get towels and a bag for the broken glass.

“No worries,” Steve says lightly. “You’d be surprised at how much glass is broken at this tower. A cup is nothing,” he tries to jokes, walking back to the couch with the supplies. The two of them clean up the floor, before sitting back on the couch, letting a silence fill the room with its heavy weight. Steve contemplates what to say for too long, which means that Bucky ends up speaking first.

“So, about today,” Bucky says lightly, but gulping hard. Steve nods with caring eyes, which makes Bucky feel a little more at ease. “Fuck, how do I even start?” Bucky continues, laughing awkwardly.

“However you want,” Steve responds, still staring right into Bucky’s eyes. Bucky sighs before continuing.

“Well, uh, first things first, I was in the military…” Bucky goes on to explain how he joined the military after his parents passed away his senior year of high school. He tells Steve about how everything was going okay, for the military at least, until his would-be final mission. He can feel the tears start to prick in his eyes when he brings up the crash and the fire. Steve just listens on in total interest and care. “So, after that, I got a dishonorable discharge, I’ve been back here, in my home state, ever since,” Bucky pauses, but both of the soldiers know he’s not done.

“In the crash,” Bucky continues, hesitantly, “I lost my arm. Which wasn’t fun, but my nerves were hit in this certain way that qualified me for this new, experimental, prosthetic treatment. So, when I woke up for the first time after the crash, I had this instead of my left arm.” Bucky pulls up the left sleeve of his shirt and takes off the glove he always wears, letting the metal glimmer in the white lighting of the room. “Which means I was pretty lucky because I had this high-tech replacement arm. But sometimes it, um, just shuts off for a few seconds, so I drop my keys or drop a cup,” Bucky smiles tightly, pointing at the still slightly wet floor. “In the elevator, the defensive systems must have thought I had a weapon or something instead of a fucking arm. And, uh, I guess it triggered something in me, that I thought was finally gone,” Bucky pauses. “So yeah, that’s my whole life story, I guess.” This time, Steve knows that he’s done.

“Buck, I’m so sorry,” Steve says, genuinely. He leans over to pull Bucky into a long hug, which Bucky accepts, both of them aching for something more.

“It’s alright. _I’m_ alright now,” Bucky says, once the hug that he wants to last forever is finally over. “I just thought I should explain,” Bucky looks up again, to find that Steve’s face is just a few inches away from his own. They stay that close, yet so far, breathing in each other’s air, for a few minutes before Bucky continues talking. “Alright, I’m gonna head out. I got school tomorrow. Thanks for having me,” he says quickly, stepping up from the couch that’s desperately trying to get him to sit down again. Steve gets up, too.

“You could stay for dinner if you want,” Steve says, hesitantly. Steve wishes he could say “I want you to stay for dinner” but he knows he can’t, and Steve wouldn’t do something like that, make it sound like it isn’t Bucky’s choice.

“Oh, thanks, but I don’t wanna intrude,” Bucky responds, hesitantly as well. He wishes he could have said yes, but he has his money on the fact Steve is just trying to be nice. Anybody who finds out that much about Bucky doesn’t really want to stay around Bucky much longer. So, Bucky walks to the door that he earlier entered through saying “Thanks again, Stevie. I’ll catch you around,” on the way over. Steve watches him walk over, staring at the beautiful man he loves leaving the building, but not knowing how to stop him. Not knowing how to make sure Bucky knows Steve would do anything to just spend one more minute looking into his face. Not knowing how to tell Bucky that he wishes he could take all his pain for him and feel it for him. Not knowing how to show Bucky that he’s beautiful, with or without the metal arm. But that’s the thing with not knowing, so all Steve can do is watch Bucky grab the doorknob.

\---

It seems to be the last dance of the six-part performance, and ballroom is closing the show. Ballroom dancing is a proclamation of love, where the most important aspect of the dance is your partner. That’s beautiful, isn’t it? Yet, each dance is different, some show the beginning of a love story or the end. Beautifully tragic.

But that’s the thing. Each ballroom performance reveals and tells a love story. Not a story that never started.

In a ballroom dance, dancers are often scared of stepping on their partner’s feet. _Our_ dancers are scared of stepping on _their_ partner’s feet. And, once more, it prevents the dance from happening, prevents the love story from starting. But what our dancers don’t know, is that their partner is more than willing to let their feet be stepped on, if it means they have any chance at all to dance, even to just one song.

Our dancers are foolish.

But, it’s called The Fool’s Journey for a reason.

Because only fools fall in love.

And our dancers are the biggest fools of all.

\---

Bucky releases his hand from the doorknob and turns to face Steve, who’s now right in front of him. “I don’t want to leave,” he practically breathes onto the Avenger.

“Then don’t,” Steve breathes in response.

And just like that, Bucky’s hands find their way onto either side of Steve’s face. The cold of the metal gives the inside of Steve a quick shock, but Steve likes it. He loves it, in fact. Bucky leans forward, and just like that, their lips are crashing into each other. Steve responds by putting his arms around Bucky’s waist and letting his hands reach up to the very bottom of Bucky’s shoulder blades. What started as an innocent kiss, is now a bout of exploration for both of their tongues. And, as it turns out, their tongues are dancing.

They kiss until all the oxygen is used up in their lungs, and then they kiss a bit more until they are truly forced to pull apart. Steve lets his forehead fall onto Bucky’s, and they stay like that, perfectly content. They both could stay like that forever until they both realize they want more.

Bucky moves his hands, which were once cupping Steve’s face, to Steve’s neck, interlocking his fingers in the back. Steve steps back, just slightly, so that he can see all of Bucky’s face. Bucky smiles up at the slightly taller man, and he smiles back.

“I’ve been dying to do that since the day we met, Buck,” Steve admits, letting his hands slightly rub Bucky’s back.

“I’ve been dying to do that since _before_ we met,” Bucky responds, laughing softly. Steve laughs too. And once the laughter dies down, Steve is kissing Bucky again. This time, however, the kiss has taken a new form. It has more passion behind it, more want. Steve navigates his hands to the middle of Bucky’s thighs and lifts him up. Bucky’s legs find a new home, wrapped around Steve’s torso. Bucky moves his hands back onto Steve’s face, continuing to make the kiss deeper and deeper. Sometimes, Bucky takes a brief break from kissing to bite Steve’s bottom lip, softly, which gets a deep breath out of the super-soldier.

Steve is able to navigate them both to the couch they were on just a few minutes ago, letting Bucky sit down as the heated kiss continues. Naturally, Bucky’s legs now straddle around Steve as Bucky moves his hands down to the back of Steve’s shoulders.

Steve breaks the kiss off, suddenly, leaving Bucky aching for more. They stare into each other’s eyes, and Steve moves his eyebrows to ask a very simple question, one that Bucky responds to by nodding, possibly too aggressively. Bucky then pulls Steve closer to him and navigates his hands farther down Steve’s back. He finds the hem of the shirt, right above the waistband of Steve’s jeans, and submerges his hands underneath the shirt to touch Steve. And as soon as he feels Steve, he wants more. He grabs onto the hem of the shirt again and starts to pull up, to which Steve responds by raising his arms. And before either of them knows it, Steve’s shirt is on the floor and they are staring at each other again.

“Excited, are we?” Steve asks, but Bucky shuts him up with another kiss. Now his hands have free range over all of Steve’s upper body. They continue kissing until Steve finally pulls away. “No fair.” He reaches his arms down the hem of Bucky’s shirt and pulls up. Bucky reluctantly takes his arms off of Steve’s to raise them up, so that Steve can fully take off Bucky’s shirt.

Bucky expects Steve to continue kissing him afterward, which he does, but Steve also lifts Bucky again, their chests pressed against each other. Bucky explores Steve’s upper back, while Steve explores Bucky’s lower. Correction, very lower back. Soon enough, Steve is sliding his hands into the back of Bucky’s pants, grabbing onto his ass. Bucky releases a soft moan, that would have been a lot louder if he wasn’t actively trying to suppress it. Bucky can feel Steve’s smile against his lips.

Steve moves the both of them to his bedroom, gently laying Bucky onto the bed. He moves his mouth off of Bucky’s, moving over to Bucky’s jawline. He kisses the length of it, then goes down his neck, kissing and sucking at multiple points. Bucky can no longer suppress the moans that continue to leak out his mouth. Steve then, ever so slowly, moves down to Bucky’s left arm, looking up at Bucky as he kisses where metal meets skin. After paying it more than enough attention, Steve moves to Bucky’s nipples, sucking one and then the other. Whenever he doesn’t have his eyes closed, he’s looking up at Bucky who’s watching him in awe. Eventually, Steve makes it to Bucky’s happy trail, licking the length of it, right down to the waistband of Bucky’s pants, and back up again. Every time he goes up and down, Bucky goes more and more insane. What puts him over the edge into complete craziness is when Steve places his mouth onto the outline of Bucky’s dick, aching against the fabric of Bucky’s pants. Steve moves his mouth against the outline until Bucky can’t take it anymore.

“Stevie, please,” he moans out. Steve moves up to kiss him, before unbuckling Bucky’s belt and pulling his pants off in one, clean motion. Steve, the evil fucker he is, first kisses up along on the inside edge of Bucky’s thighs, going right up to Bucky’s hard cock, before moving to the other thigh. But then, before Bucky can think about wanting it any longer, Steve’s mouth is on him. Steve takes it all at once, as Bucky’s hands find their place tangled in Steve’s hair. Not pushing or pulling, just there so he can feel more of Steve. Steve’s hands are on both of Bucky’s thighs, and he continues to move his head up and down along Bucky. Not once does he close his eyes, continuing to stare up at Bucky as he sucks.

“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” he moans out multiple times as Steve continues. What sends Bucky over the edge is when he notices a small tear on the outside edge of Steve’s eyes, as Steve is taking it all into his mouth. Just like that, after a string of cuss words and “Stevie”s, Bucky is releasing into Steve’s mouth. He shoots into Steve's throat, and Steve swallows it all, only letting some escape. As soon as Bucky comes down from his climax, Steve is moving up to kiss Bucky again, cupping Bucky’s face with his own. Bucky can taste himself in Steve’s mouth. Steve pulls away, and Bucky sees a drop of cum on Steve’s chin. He swipes it up with his finger and gently places it into Steve’s mouth.

“Very excited, aren’t we, Buck?” Steve asks after Bucky takes his finger out of his mouth. Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and crashes his lips into Steve’s again. Bucky slowly gets up, sitting up in the bed, until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed while Steve is standing up, right in front of him. Steve sits down on the bed at the same time he pulls on Bucky to roll over so that Bucky is now sitting in Steve’s lap. He continues to kiss him when he feels how hard Steve is through the jeans that Steve still has on for some reason.

“You seem like the excited one, Stevie,” he says, now gyrating his hips against Steve. That elicits a deep moan out of Steve’s mouth. Bucky moves his hands down to Steve’s belt, so he can start unbuckling it, then forces himself to get out of Steve’s lap so that he can take them off. He’s on his knees, right in front of the bed when he eventually gets them off, revealing Steve’s dick right in front of Bucky’s face.

“As much as I want to suck your dick, Stevie,” Bucky says, blushing and looking up at Steve from his place on the floor. “I would rather you fuck me.” All Steve can do in response is reach over to his nightstand to pull out a small bottle of lube and a condom, while Bucky moves to kiss Steve’s inner thigh. “You know, there are rumors on the internet that say you can’t catch anything, Stevie.”

“There are rumors on the internet about-” Steve stops himself when he meets Bucky’s eyes from below him. “It’s true, you know.”

“So?”

“So?” Steve echoes, placing the condom back onto the nightstand. Bucky climbs back onto Steve’s lap, as Steve falls back onto the bed. He pours some of the lube onto his fingers before he reaches over to behind Bucky. He rubs his fingers over Bucky’s hole before inserting the first finger. Bucky responds by moaning loudly, pushing back against Steve’s hand to try to get more inside of him.

“Patience, Buck,” Steve says, moving his head over to kiss Bucky on the forehead. Steve then puts another finger in, making Bucky moan even more. Steve stays moving the two fingers in and out until Bucky is begging into his ear, so he puts another in.

“Stevie, please,” Bucky moans out after Steve has been moving the three fingers for just a few seconds. Steve pulls his fingers out of Bucky, making Bucky feel empty. Steve then moves his hands to Bucky’s back, to guide him onto the bed. Bucky complies, and soon Steve is on his knees on the bed while Bucky is on his back with his legs spread apart. Steve pours some more lube onto his dick, stroking it a few times with his hand to coat it. Then, Steve grabs both of Bucky’s legs and pulls them up to rest against his shoulders. Bucky and Steve lock eyes as Steve enters, slowly. He works his way into Bucky as Bucky moans out. Bucky’s hands naturally reach over to find a pillow to cover his face, but Steve stops him and throws the pillow off the bed.

“I want ta see ya,” Steve says, as he grabs both of Bucky’s hands to pin them above his head. With his other hand, he grabs Bucky’s ankle to spread his legs more. That’s when Steve starts sliding more into Bucky, and Bucky moans louder than ever before. Once Steve gets all of himself inside of Bucky, he stays still to let Bucky adjust to it. Another rumor that Bucky had proven true tonight was that the serum made _everything_ bigger.

“Fuck, Steve, please,” Bucky says, aching for Steve to start moving. Steve’s current mission is to please, so he starts to move out slowly, before pushing back in again. At this point, Bucky is completely hard again, his dick throbbing in front of him. While Steve continues to move in and out, he rubs his hand up and down Bucky’s calf, sometimes kissing the muscle.

“Stevie, please,” Bucky moans.

“Please what?” Steve responds, stopping his movement inside of Bucky which makes Bucky groan.

“Faster, please, Steve. Fuck me faster,” Bucky responds, his face turning red.

“You have a dirty mouth, don’t you, Buck?” Steve asks. Bucky is about to say some remark in response, but he shuts up as soon as Steve starts moving inside him again. The pace is faster this time and is only getting faster each time Steve drags out and pounds back in. Bucky’s vocabulary soon just turns into moaned versions of “fuck” and “Stevie,” and Steve continues to fuck him, not breaking eye contact one.

“You like that, Buck?” Steve asks right after he pounded deep into Bucky, an action that Bucky knows will make him sore tomorrow. All Bucky can do in response is nod. Steve continues to fuck into Bucky when he removes the hand from Bucky’s pinned arms and moves it to his hard cock. He starts stroking it slowly, which produces even more obscene moans from Bucky. After just a few stokes, Bucky is almost at his climax. Steve isn’t far behind with his movements getting faster and faster inside of Bucky.

“Fuck, Stevie, I’m gonna-” is all Bucky can get out before he’s over the edge, streaks of cum splattering onto his chest. Bucky shakes through his climax, almost whiting out, but Steve’s movement inside of him grounding him. Seeing Bucky’s face is all Steve needs to be pushed over the edge, as he’s releasing deep inside of Bucky, his cock pulsing inside of him.

Steve then leans down to lick up Bucky’s chest, licking up the mess that Bucky made. He moves to kiss Bucky, which Bucky accepts eagerly, while his cock is still inside of Bucky. Bucky moans into the kiss and moans, even more, when Steve finally pulls out after a few minutes.

“¿Quieres ducharte?” Steve asks just a few inches from Bucky’s face.

_“Do you want to shower?”_

“Por favor,” Bucky practically moans, before realizing what happened. “Wait, what?” he continues, blush spreading onto his face instantly.

_“Please.”_

Steve kisses the blush away, before speaking again. “Now, I’m not fluent. But I can definitely understand enough,” he says with a wink, getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom. Bucky’s almost too mortified to show his face ever again, but of course, he’s going to follow a naked Steve Rogers wherever that naked Steve Rogers will go.

Bucky manages to get up, then takes a glance at the nightstand next to Steve’s bed, spotting the book Steve was reading all those days ago. “What’s this book about?” he yells, running after Steve who disappeared behind the bathroom door.

\---

After a shower, then another round in the shower after Steve got his hands onto Bucky, then finally finishing the shower, Bucky found his way onto the couch as Steve finally closed the refrigerator to get started on dinner. Steve yells for Bucky to put on a movie, so Bucky puts on one that he made a reference to that Steve didn’t get. They eat fried rice on the couch, then cuddle, never seeming to get enough contact with the other, while Bucky puts on another movie. Eventually, Bucky falls asleep in Steve’s arms, and when he wakes up, he decides he won’t be going to his classes. It would be too hard to get out of Steve’s firm grasp on him, he thinks.

A few days later, Bucky catches a different subway after his classes are over, so he can meet Steve at the tower, instead of going home. Steve said he would take Bucky on an official date, so Bucky thought they were going to go to a bar or something. Instead, Steve presents Bucky with a bouquet of roses and takes him to the fanciest Italian restaurant in the city. Bucky teases that it isn’t the 1940s anymore, but both Steve and Bucky know that he loves it. Nat, obviously, crashes the date after she reveals her hidden identity at another table, which leads to an interesting conversion. But she likes Bucky, and finally allows Steve to convince her to leave. (Of course, that wasn't the end of Nat's investigation, as a few days later she appears incognito at Bucky's work to scope out the scene. Unfortunately for the Black Widow (but fortunately for Bucky Barnes), some old lady who's sitting all alone distracts her from her mission, and they chat the rest of the day. They seem to have a lot in common, but that's a story for another time.)

Weeks later, they are spending every waking moment together, other than the time Bucky spends at the coffee shop or at school and Steve spends doing important Avenger saving-the-world stuff. Luckily, Bucky was able to sneak some ice packs into Steve’s floor, so he would have something to tend to Steve with when he comes home with a black eye. Steve claims that he doesn’t need it, but both Steve and Bucky know that he loves it.

Months later, Bucky is no longer living in his tiny apartment and is now sharing an entire floor with a super-soldier. JARVIS (and a reluctant Stark) apologized to him about the whole fiasco, so Bucky started to use the elevator again (which his knees are thanking him for). Bucky also learned to stop wearing his glove around the tower.

And, hidden in the small things, like when Bucky catches Steve drawing him or when Bucky makes sure to bring a coffee to the Tower when he knows Steve is going to be there, their life turns into a dance.

And dance is exactly what they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, play "Last Dance" by Donna Summer! (but actually, if you don't know this song or even if you do, please listen to it, it's so good)
> 
> Anyways, AH! I have a lot of things to say!
> 
> First things first, this was my first time ever writing ...smut... so hopefully, it wasn't miserable. I am proud that I never used the word "member," so I'll toot my own horn for that one. 
> 
> Speaking of firsts, this was multiple firsts for me! First Stucky story that I wrote, first fic I've posted on ao3, and I actually think first fic I've ever written. So, yeah, many firsts! But I'm super glad I did it cause this was so fun!
> 
> Okay, and now, most importantly, thank you all so so so so so much for reading this story. I know I sometimes don't want to risk reading a new story, so it means so much that you all decided to take a risk and read this story from this random author! Big shoutout to those who have been here since the first chapter (which yes, I know was like a week ago, but still). I love you all so much and a giant thank you to all of you who have left kudos, it means a lot. I truly wasn't expecting to get any attention to this story, so I'm just blown away. AAAA!!!! Even bigger shoutout to everybody who has commented. I've said it once, but I'll say it again, reading the comments has made my day, every single day. They are so kind and nice and sweet and amazing. So thank you to everybody who has left one! As of now, I'm still planning to respond to every comment!
> 
> So, yeah, that's it, I guess. Thank you all so much, again, for reading this!
> 
> In other news, this was my first story, and I'm hoping it won't be my last! I have an idea for something else which I haven't really started yet (which I'll keep a secret for now because I'm evil), but hopefully, it will come to fruition. So, hopefully, I'll see you all again! If you couldn't already tell, I'm very very very new to this community, so I don't really have any connections. So, if one of you lovely readers would be interested in beta-ing the potential new story sometime in the future, let me know in the comments or email me and we can talk! Speaking about connections, I don't really have any social links (awkward, I know) because I'm terrified of tumblr, but if you want to chat about anything you can email me at cheddarcheesefics@gmail.com (also in my profile).
> 
> Okay, sorry about the long notes, I was just rambling. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed the dance.
> 
> See you later,  
> \- Cheese


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